


Family Ties

by tzigane, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Series: Love Crumpet [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dysfunctional Family, Extremely Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzigane/pseuds/tzigane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Augustus Moran was hearty for his age; he'd had his children young in his life, and was one of those old-monied sorts that Mycroft so frequently found himself at odds with. Mummy had <i>words</i> about the man, and his habits, and his brutish rudeness at dinner parties that did remind Mycroft of the younger Moran. But there was a keenness in his eyes that reminded him of Moriarty to a degree that made Mycroft wonder at the father issues Sebastian was harbouring.</p><p>And how he could personally make them worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Ties

He was a man who kept his friends close and his enemies closer. It had always been that way -- a good enemy was as useful as a good ally, and generally much more easily manipulated. For once, he'd mis-estimated, though the slight misstep, a loss of a battle in a way that would help the greater metaphorical war for continued control of the nation, was to be sealed in his favourite of homes.

The Diogenes club.

Transporting James and Sebastian there was simple -- it was known in a vague way whose company he was keeping, much as it had been when Anthea had worked for him before they'd amicably parted ways. James Moriarty had a very real history as a free lance consultant and a mathematics professor; Colonel Moran had a distinguished history of military service, and then a small consulting business. That was enough stature that their occasional visible presence in association with Mycroft Holmes was no black mark on his own stature, even if that knowledge was vague and well muted in the first place.

James was seated, stewing, across from him in a high leather backed chair. He was reading the newspaper with a tight interest, eyes darting for an opportunity that would never come with the ankle bracelet. Sebastian, it was easier to give a looser leash, quite un-metaphorically, and he was quite usefully coordinating with Mycroft's security team just then. An un-measurable asset, Mycroft affirmed to himself, as his guest knocked on the door to his sanctum in the club.

"Come in."

It was a moment of Detente, inviting Augustus Moran to the club to share a glass of brandy and a cigar, to commiserate over the horror of having to place a prime minister from _Hull_ , of all places. 

Augustus Moran was hearty for his age; he'd had his children young in his life, and was one of those old monied sorts that Mycroft so frequently found himself at odds with. Mummy had _words_ about the man, and his habits, and his brutish rudeness at dinner parties that did remind Mycroft of the younger Moran. But there was a keenness in his eyes that reminded him of Moriarty to a degree that made him wonder at the father issues Sebastian was harbouring.

And how he could personally make them worse.

When he entered, Augustus was dressed in a way that bespoke his age -- suit in a charcoal grey with a cut that was the very definition of traditional. It said many things about him, and Mycroft catalogued all of them in a glance. "Holmes." The fact that his gaze neither darted towards his son nor exhibited any sort of shock was telling.

Still, he wondered what the man was assuming. That his son was on Mycroft's 'team', no doubt. It truly was a security consultation, because who better to point out holes in a plan than a man with criminal inclinations? But it was quiet and in the corner. "Augustus." He stood up, smiling congenially. "Please, sit down -- James, get us drinks. I wanted to congratulate you on your victory, of sorts." 

"Sometimes, one takes one's victories where they can be found." Neither of them offered the other any sort of congenial meeting of hands. It was all or the best that they did not, Mycroft expected.

He smiled instead, and pulled a cigar case out of his suit pocket. "Smoke as well?" James was being more Jimmy than James just then, making a fuss of folding up his paper as he stood up to finally get the drinks. "I suppose we'll be working together more frequently in the future, and saw it fitting to offer you a little hospitality."

One grey-blond brow rose, and the elder Moran shifted, just a hint of suspicion in the way he moved. "Your notion of hospitality is certainly pleasant enough so far." Acceptance of the cigar was given with nothing more than a slight motion of his hand.

He stepped forward, holding the case out in offer to the man while he reached for his lighter and the cutter as well. "I know I have a reputation, Lord Moran, but it's nothing to be concerned about."

"You'll forgive me if I choose to remain..." That time, he did glance towards his son. "Wary. I feel sure." All the same, he took the items when they were offered, and set about the matter with effortless elegance, the motions of a man long accustomed to the practice of dealing with expensive cigars.

Mycroft joined him, leisurely once he passed the cutter back. James arrived at his elbow, brandy in hand, and he took it, giving a significant glance from James to Augustus Moran. "Yes, Sebastian. Quite a hard worker, as I'm sure you know. How are your other children? Well, I hope."

"As should be expected. Less infamous, in any case." And oh, he could practically see the tension rising in the room. Delicious. He didn't look, but he could sense the shift, could imagine that Sebastian was staring now, and that the thick collar around his neck would be visible soon if he kept turning his head, whether or not he turned up his shirt collar to disguise it.

"Infamous. That's an interesting word for it." James held out the brandy for Augustus, and that was a tremulous moment, letting James that close to a guest without giving him prior instruction. Just... letting him assume.

It was so much fun sometimes, particularly now that he had Moriarty at least a little broken. He was still sometimes wild and always unpredictable, but it was enjoyable.

Moran took the brandy, eying Jim with distaste. "I'm sure there are other words, but infamous will suffice."

"I suppose it could tack on to the end of ill-tempered, yes. Why don't we sit?" He started to move to a chair, knowing the other man would follow suit politely if nothing else. "I'd like to discuss what we can do for each other. As this all moves forward."

He could see the temptation there, the desire to refuse the invitation just because his son was there. That was the very reason he had no choice but to accept. Sherlock never understood how much Mycroft enjoyed all of the little power-plays in his everyday existence. Ah, well. It meant that he would have no competition in the matter.

It was all about leverage. Always and forever about leverage, because he didn't keep a hold of things by being simply smarter, or nicer. The world didn't do what was best for it just because he told them to. Augustus Moran sat down, albeit slowly, watching him. "Richard, Stevens, you may go. I'd like to continue my discussions in private."

He found it so much easier to manipulate people properly when there were no witnesses, after all, and he could tell that Augustus Moran knew that also. Knew it quite well, and that was no surprise. After all, Sebastian had clearly learned at the feet of a master.

Giving in with grace was also something that seemed familiar, because Augustus nodded and then seated himself, quite careful not to keep his son in his line of sight. It was good to know that other families were at least as dysfunctional as his own.

"Much better." He took a sip of his brandy, and a slow inhale of his own cigar. He could feel the fine leather press against his shoulders through the fabric of his suit. "You remember Anthea, of course. She was lovely as far as companionship, but she truly was interested in cyber security and I do put my interests in serving queen and country first. James here is a mathematical genius in his own right."

Genius and _angry_ , but he did manage to behave well these days. For the most part. Mycroft supposed that even the most foolhardy madman would eventually understand the connection between showing out and the judicious application of electricity. "I am aware." Oh, and clearly he didn't like it at all. How interesting.

"Are you? Have you met before?" Mycroft asked, voice tinged with genuine curiosity. There was the possibility that Sebastian had been seen with Jim, that perhaps he'd even brought the criminal home, which was fascinating. 

When Lord Moran spoke again, his voice was dry, edged in sarcasm. "I don't need to meet someone to know what is happening in the lives of my children."

"How delightful." Mycroft smiled, a real smile, taking another sip of his brandy. "Still, it has been to my benefit to have James in my... stable. His pattern recognition skills are on par with mine." He inclined his head slightly. "So, perhaps in this case, like son, like father...?"

He watched and waited as Augustus inhaled cigar smoke and then breathed it out again. "I have been sorely disappointed in Sebastian's lack of ambition."

Moriarty's gaze narrowed, sharp and dark, glancing from Sebastian to his father and then back again. He didn't speak, but then, his face said all that was necessary. Mycroft finally took the time to look over and around the side of the chair, to where Sebastian was leaning against the table edge, face gone red and angry in the edges. "Colonel in the army, recognized sniper. It's certainly nothing to scoff at, Augustus."

"Recognized sniper." Moriarty purred the words even as he dropped to his knees and began to crawl forwards. "Brilliant with logistics. Amazing fuck."

"Oh, christ." Sebastian finally lodged a protest at something, coming forward but not stepping past Mycroft's chair as he made an aborted motion that clearly telegraphed he wanted nothing better than to stop James. Even that debauched party hadn't gathered that kind of reaction from Sebastian. "I..."

Holding up a hand stopped the sentence before it could be fully spoken, and kept Sebastian from moving any further. Jim was between the knees of his lover's father, and reaching for his fly. "Can blow someone forever," he murmured, fingers moving steadily. "Quite the talent for it, in fact."

"Holmes, what's the meaning of this?" He wasn't standing up or making a run for it, though, because he was intrigued. Who wouldn't be? Well. He could think of quite a few people who wouldn't be, mostly because they were utterly terrified of Moriarty, doubtless with excellent reasons. The inquiry didn't stop the way that Jim was sliding his hand inside the man's trousers, or the fact that he was very carefully not looking towards Sebastian.

Mycroft allowed a faint smile to cross his lips. "Nothing more than... oh, let's call it a bit of a welcome, shall we?"

"A welcome and blackmail?" He shifted his hips, pressing up against James's fingers leisurely, though. It was a game, and he was clearly excellent at it. He likely thought that he would manage to make this come out to the good for him, and that he would have gotten a decent blowjob out of it as well.

He was wrong, but that was part of the fun of things.

"I can't watch this," Sebastian muttered, still red faced and almost shaking with bottled up something. Rage or embarrassment or horror. Mycroft could only imagine how well he would cope with what came next.

"You will," Mycroft cut in firmly, watching as James put on his best show face, all fakery and sheer delight in _cock_ , face lit up with singsong words he wasn't saying. 

"No, bugger, I--" He was turning to leave, possibly to try and get out a window. Confronting the man with that was at last like the edge of a breakpoint, a frayed point in his weavings, and then Mycroft had him by his wrist, and he wouldn't let go.

Finally. Finally he had found what he was seeking, the edge where Sebastian Moran couldn't cope with whatever Mycroft was choosing to do to him. Now that he knew where to look, he would be able to find it again and again and again, and that made him smile even as the sounds of a fair slurping suck started up so close by.

He exhaled shakily, and didn't pull away, watching with apparent and growing horror as James slurped enthusiastically at his father's cock. "Please. I..."

"Don't fret. I'm sure our dear James is up to the task, Sebastian." Up to it and more, although the mention of his son's name did cause Augustus to wrinkle his brow, as if concentrating heavily on ignoring that fact.

He could feel pressure against his fingers, Sebastian straining, tense, but not pulling away. He could have if he wanted to, he was certainly strong enough, up at ungodly hours of the morning doing sit-ups and pushups. Sometimes Jim sat on his back and laughed, just because it was very difficult, but Sebastian managed all the same. If either of them knew that he had seen, doubtless all hell would break loose.

Augustus shifted a little, legs splayed as he ran his hands through James's hair thoughtfully, mostly watching the edge of lips against his skin. While Moriarty was not the cocksucker Sebastian was, he certainly wasn't a slouch, either, both hands wrapped around the base, tongue and lips working to provide the perfect amount of pressure, pleasure.

It was good to give them small illusions of privacy, to see what they got up to, said, planned. Didn't plan. When he looked up again, Sebastian had quite childishly closed his eyes. Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Mycroft reached out to card his fingers through Sebastian's hair before leaning closer to whisper instructions. The horrified look of realization on his face was intoxicating.

He very likely had mental images for it -- images of his father fucking Jim, of having to stand and watch -- but he pulled away to, very likely, fetch the lubricant as per instructions. It would be interesting to see how fast the man moved.

It would be even more interesting to see what Augustus Moran would do when it became obvious where all of this was going. As it was, he was clearly enjoying the use of Moriarty's mouth and hands, even going so far as to sprawl, hands on the arms of his chair, as though this were nothing more than his due. Mycroft wondered if he had felt the same way about being a father.

Likely. The fact that he seemed unconcerned when his son was distressed was an interesting piece of information.

"Does this one do parties?" Augustus half-joked, still watching Moriarty suck. "Mouth like a vacuum."

"Very pretty parties," he replied, smiling. "He is lovely in pink." Being fucked by Sebastian's cock and anyone else who wanted in him, mouth held open so that it would be useful for something other than biting. That made James still for a moment, but just the one.

It had been a shockingly bad evening for Moriarty, that party -- laid low before his greatest opponent, quite literally. Splayed out, stretched wide. He liked to turn that day over in his mind occasionally, because it had been quite so stunning. Right up there with that first time in the car, and enough to cement that he'd made the right decision.

The door opened again, with Sebastian slipping inside quietly before walking to Mycroft to hand him the lube. Augustus had gotten quite a bit more enjoyment with his son out of the room, and was no longer paying any attention to the situation. Instead, he had one hand in Moriarty's short hair, fisting it tightly to keep him sucking, and he was no longer considering anything except his pleasure.

There was nothing like a good leisurely blowjob. Sebastian dropped the lube on Mycroft's lap, and made as if to walk to the back of the room again, to blend into the proverbial woodwork.

"No." The word was soft, but telling, and it was good to see him flinch. "Trousers off."

"Please don't." He'd never really heard the man beg, but just then it sounded thrilling. And despite it, Sebastian's hands slid down to the buckle of his belt.

"Off," he said again, and watched as Moran flushed with misery and horror and shame, so many delightful things all at once.

Silence held as he moved through it mechanically, toeing off his shoes as he eased down his trousers down, leaving himself in boxers and shirttails. Apparently he was going to choose that moment to fight Mycroft for every scrap of clothing, and Mycroft wasn't going to bother with the fight. It was too trivial to make the effort when he could crook his fingers in a simple command and get Colonel Sebastian Moran close enough to tug down and into his lap. He had a knee on either side of Mycroft's hips, his tight arse resting on Mycroft's thighs. It would have been more awkward a positioning if Mycroft himself hadn't been tall, if Sebastian hadn't been compliant and stiffly keeping his eyes on Mycroft's face.

"Don't worry. You know I prefer things with lubricant." Yes, because there was no point in pain that wasn't specifically planned and then put into place as he liked them. He felt smug and sure of himself, fingers slipping back to make their way down the back of his pants.

After all, Moriarty had been right from the start -- he liked to be quite comfortable in the lap of luxury. Why not? He was halfway through a cigar, and he was going to be fingering a lovely, mostly willing arse. It was good to be Mycroft Holmes. He hadn't actually fucked Sebastian with Moriarty in the room -- it had always been a careful separation game when it came to that, making sure that Moriarty never saw him with Moran. After all, he wasn't the type of man who would like it when someone else played with his toys, and despite the clear fact that Moran was as often as not the one penetrating, it was obvious who was always in charge.

Now, at least, James was busy, sucking off Moran senior, and perhaps that would work for all of them. It was a chance, one way or another, but if one didn't take the occasional risk, then one never achieved anything.

He slowly pressed his fingertip into Sebastian's asshole, feeling the faint clenching and shivering, feeling the very real response Sebastian had to the gesture. "Fuck." Fuck, and not a pleasured fuck, but a shuddering mortified word that held misery in it. Body and mind at war, then, but it didn't stop him from putting a hand on the back of Mycroft's chair to steady himself.

The slight arch of his back gave Mycroft the opportunity to push his finger in a little deeper, and as mortified as Sebastian was, Mycroft could see the faint outline of his cock firming up in tight stretched boxers. 

"Christ, the boy's go--"

Oh, yes. Yes, that was it, right there, the look of shock on the face of the elder Moran as he saw what was going on, and that was the very moment that James sucked him down hard, got all of him in his throat, and the conflict made his face squish into an unpleasant expression even as he came, hard, gasping for breath. Who wouldn't?

A mouth like that, there was just no way to resist that motion. It was a shame he wasn't further along as he eased the one finger back, pushed a second one messily slick into Sebastian. His skin was warm against Mycroft's palm, and every muscle was shivering with tension if not entirely pleasure yet. It would have been more dramatic to have been balls deep in the man when Augustus looked up, but still -- he had plenty of time to get to that point and keep the man there as well, casual about it. All as though it didn't matter, wasn't important enough to hide, and he was unsurprised to find James licking his lips and tilting his head in their direction. The expression in his eyes was flat and black, cold considering the sheer heat of sexual prowess he had shown. It said so many things -- hatred and anger and jealousy, lust and want and something that was completely indefinable.

It was hard to guess what he was going to do, and Mycroft savoured that thrill as he turned his head, kissed the exposed line of Moran's neck just above that lovely, well worn tracking collar.

"God." That was a shaky exhalation, and yes. Yes, that was just what he wanted. It did not surprise him that Sebastian's father was sitting there, panting in the aftermath, one hand still on Moriarty's head, stroking his hair as if he had absolutely no idea how very dangerous he was. That or he didn't care, and only someone utterly insane didn't care when they were that close to James Moriarty. Well, except for Mycroft, but that was clearly an entirely different situation.

That Augustus Moran was that comfortable told him that he actually knew nothing of the nature of the man -- just assumed that anyone his son associated with was trash. "Just get it over with and fuck me already," Sebastian muttered quietly, head hung down as he was clearly working to hold still. It was obviously mortifying him, and that at least was enjoyable. More enjoyable would be if James broke his little good boy facade and showed the man his teeth.

"Get off your pants." The boxers would make it difficult to get into him, and Mycroft was not interested in difficult at the moment.

He exhaled slowly, almost a whinge low in the back of his throat, before shifting backwards against Mycroft's hand. He used his free hand to push them down over his thighs, and then there was a moment of squirming that didn't quite unseat him from Mycroft's fingers -- he knew better -- as he stretched his pants and knelt up enough to get them off.

"I can't decide which of you is more audacious." The man's discomfort was starting to tinge with anger. "This isn't how I expected you to take your revenge on me, Sebastian."

"Hush, honey." James's voice was husky, and his fingers squeezed around the man's ankles. "Don't fuck with Sebastian. I will make you regret it. Should have done before now." Since all he had available to him now was his growl and occasional bite.

James's response made Augustus quiet, and he kept watching the man over Sebastian's shoulder as he finally dropped his pants to the floor and settled, having done a thorough job in his squirming of fucking himself onto Mycroft's fingers. It should have been enough to at least ease the way. 

"He's a mewling sissy boy at heart, same as you are. It's no wonder he took up with a mincing little academic, and no wonder that you found yourselves here..."

Here, in Mycroft's control, and Sebastian settled over him even as Mycroft positioned his cock, let him push down and take him in without a sound. What that cost him was unimaginable, and fucking gorgeous. Even so, he could feel the tension, and not just in Sebastian. It was rising in nearly visible waves from Moriarty, and Mycroft decided that he wasn't going to do a damned thing about it.

He was going to let Augustus Moran bait himself into a savaging the likes of which Mycroft hadn't planned. He was much more interested in the flex of Sebastian's thighs, in the admirably unwavering loyalty the man had when it was against his own best interests. The tight squeeze around his cock, or the way his dick jutted upwards, bobbing with every motion it took to for Sebastian to fuck himself. Completely silent.

"Unbelievable." Augustus started to gather himself up, tucking himself away, done with the scene in front of him. James's hand on his ankle tightened, nails digging into the skin.

Excellent.

"You aren't going anywhere." That was the Moriarty he had taken captive, the one that scared the shit out of anyone with a lick of damned sense. "You will stay exactly where you are, and you will not say another word." The _or else_ went unsaid.

He could see the emotions play over the man's face -- rage first, then simmering down to anger, and confusion, briefly, as he ultimately sat still and stared more at James than at Mycroft giving Sebastian a slow leisurely fuck. The thing of Sebastian was, he always had to touch. He held on to things, interacted with the world around him even when what he was doing was clearly against his better senses. Mycroft heard the leather edge of the chair-back creak as Sebastian's fingers flexed on it at a particularly lazy upward thrust of his own hips into that tightness. While the man was clearly as accomplished a sodomite as he was a cocksucker, it had been a while, and he felt so good. The fleshly aspect of the moment still didn't quite come up to the utter pleasure of the twisted emotional mess in the room.

James's fingers let loose their death grip and began rubbing again. The danger was there, clear, practically begging to be let out, and Mycroft was fairly certain Augustus couldn't even see it for the peril it was.

He was chastised, though, snapped back in shock more than anything, and finally looked at his son. Or, his son's back, and Mycroft Holmes's dick sliding in and out of his arse. He took a sip of his brandy, finished the glass, and leaned to set it on the side table without missing a beat. He could almost feel the younger Moran's internal distress ratcheting higher.

"Finish it." As if Moriarty had the right to make a command like that, to tell Mycroft what to do, and then Sebastian began milking him, tightening and releasing even as he slid up and down, and oh. My. Just a little flex of control from a man who didn't have any, putting himself on something of an equal footing with Mycroft for the purview of guests, but Mycroft let his head rest back against the chair back, and savoured it, went with it. The message he wanted conveyed hadn't been muddied, and coming bare-backed into the man's arse was another subtle message as well, now that he'd had both of them thoroughly tested.

God, but his life was exquisite and utterly perfect.

"I'll be leaving now." Augustus sounded pompous as ever, full of himself, and Moriarty laughed.

"You'll be leaving, but you won't be leaving without a very clear understanding of who calls the shots. Regrettably, that is not me; otherwise, you would be leaving for the autopsy table."

"Quite right." Mycroft curled fingers at the back of Sebastian's neck, making sure the collar was nicely visible, the little box of the tracker. "I know you thought you had a victory today -- but it's a small win, when I've already won the war. This little moment has been immortalized in film. I do hope that won't require further discussion....?"

Oh, yes. Yes, if Mycroft hadn't already come, that might induce him to orgasm again, just from the satisfaction of that look on Augustus' face. "I'm not surprised that you would use such underhanded tactics."

Moriarty yawned and raised one lazy hand to halfway cover it. "You would have used them if you'd had the balls. Sebastian, do come here. Let the gentleman alone to... what is the term? Duke it out? And I shall play mincing academic for you."

"Go." He tapped two fingers on the back of Sebastian's neck, let the man move off of the chair still hard to head towards his savior and his controller, even as Augustus nearly bodily dodged contact with his son to stay out of his way as he settled on the floor.

Lazily, Mycroft reached down and began to fasten his trousers. "Would you like some more brandy? You might like it as we discuss your support of the upcoming vote of non-confidence." After all.

 _Hull_.

* * *

Mycroft Holmes was satisfied enough to put his toys away for the night, and Sebastian had stayed rather than returning straight to his conduit street apartment. Sometimes... he knew there were times when being alone was probably not the best of decisions, even if Jim's room was still fucking creepy.

At least Holmes hadn't taken to forcing Jim to wearing pink ruffled nighties as well. Funny, he supposed. Being here like this, stuck in this situation, Jim's hand carding slowly through his hair, light, soothing. It wasn't normal, wasn't even close, and it just seemed to make him feel worse

"Next time we see him, I could bite him. If you liked."

"If you think you could get away with it." He swung between bouts of a hysterical need to get them out of that situation, out out out, and the understanding that they were fucked, so fucked. There was no getting out, in a deep unbearable way.

He could almost see the way Jim smiled, nasty and mean. Things were... different now. Not just the situation, but the drugs that Mycroft forced on him dulled him, made it harder to think his way out of it. "Even if I can't, it doesn't matter."

He shifted, leaned into the petting through his hair, eyes closed to the darkness. No, they were never getting out of there. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you out."

The fact that Jim just kept petting him, it seemed ridiculous. He wouldn't have done, before, would have railed and snapped and been Jim. Instead, now, he was something else altogether. "You shouldn't have come. You should have stayed out and taken care of things."

He was still taking care of things from the inside. Everything was still running, and it was quite the criminal enterprise they had going. Locked up as they were. "I just wanted to get you out..."

"Sentimentalist." It should have been a curse, a tirade, an anything else but something that seemed fond. The world was wrong, and Jim wasn't, maybe couldn't, fix it.

He turned his head, kissed Jim's temple. "Yeah. Christ. Maybe tomorrow will be better."

Maybe, and Jim curled into him, thumb stroking along the edge of an ear. "Or worse. Either way, it'll be tomorrow."


End file.
